The 55th Annual Hunger Games
by Mople
Summary: Once again, 24 tributes must fight it out until only one remains. Who will win this time? Stick around to find out!
1. Fresh Hell

THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Pre-Games:

Jasmine Lees, District 5:

God. Once again we're here. The reaping. My hair is tied up into a bun and my blouse covered by a lime green jacket. For the first time, I feel beautiful.

I hope the unlucky girl reaped this year is different from last year. Helen, who was originally a scared fourteen-year-old, turned brutal and started ramapaging, until the victor, Michael from 6, eventually killed her. Not many girls or boys are like that in this district, so we're hopefully going to have an honourable tribute who dies knowing they did it for their family.

As we enter the square, my fellow fifteen-year-olds check in. The pinprick on my finger is the familiar sharp pain, but after that it quickly deteriorates into nothing, only a small mark where the electric needle went in.

Our escort, Marilyn Ofterner, starts the reaping by handing over to our district mayor. He begins the long, dreary speech about the Dark Days, how we must never do it again, how generous the Capitol is, blah blah blah. Then Marilyn takes over and walks over to the big, glass ball with hundreds of slips of paper in it. She pulls out the white slip.

"And our female tribute is... Kalee Lees!"

My whole body tenses up. My sister, my little sister who's twelfth birthday was only a week ago. My little, lovely sister who's eyes light up whenever she enters a room, my sister who is loved by the whole district. I can't stop the words pouring out my mouth.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Marilyn seems somewhat relieved that finally, the most boring district who's tributes nearly always die in the bloodbath, has some excitement. I push Kalee behind me as I climb the steps onto the stage. She's wailing and crying now, and eventually my mother has to run forwards and practically carry her back to her spot in the twelve-year-olds area.

On stage, I try and keep a straight face. The other tributes will want to see if I'm a possible target, if the sponsors think I'm worthing spending their money on. I'm not thinking of my impending doom. All I can conjure up in my head is _Don't cry_.

Patrick Williams, District 5:

Wowsers. That's a first. A volunteer. In District 5 of all places. As I stand in the seventeen-year-olds section, I crane my neck to see where her sister is. She's still sobbing at the back of the square with her mother, the tears dropping onto her blouse. I turn back to the stage as Marilyn walks over to the male's glass ball. Her hand fumbles around in the sphere, deciding which unlucky child to choose. She then pulls out a slip and heads back over to the microphone.

"And the male tribute from District 5 is... Patrick Williams!"

WHAT? I was so sure! There are thousands in that bowl and the odds were so low that I didn't bother worrying about it. I didn't take any tesserae, we can live off the strawberries we sell from our garden. The odds were in my favour. And then they turned on me.

"Patrick? Come on up dear!" pipes Marilyn. My feet begin to shuffle forwards, not wanting to be dragged on stage by Peacekeepers. As I climb the steps, I see Jasmine's face devoid of emotion. Clearly it's an act. Nobody, apart from the Career tributes, are that calm during this time. Marilyn then asks for volunteers. Of course, nobody steps forward.

"Come on you two, shake hands!" Her hand lightly grasps mine as we shake. I can feel the tension between us. In just a few days, we'll be in the arena, and possibly killing each other as well. So yeah, not a good situation.

Ed Lawrence, District 10:

Custody is not what I expected it to be. The walls are a bare wooden and the rotting chairs are uncomfortable as ever. My aunt and uncle walk into the room first, but there are no tears in their eyes. Instead, big smiles cover their faces.

"Finally! We've been plotting how to get rid of you for so long, and it's finally happened! You were costing us too much money! Die for us, will you?" With that, they leave the room.

I wait for somebody else to enter. I didn't expect much from those two. They hated me from the start, ever since my parents died. All they care about is money and fashion. You can tell by their Capitol hairdos and their disgusting make-up. I guess my only option is to die, or face life with those two forever. Maybe, with the mindset of the Games still in me, I could kill them. Though that would get me executed. Yeah, better to just get killed in the bloodbath and be done with it.

Bea Intuler, District 10:

Last year, my big sister got reaped into the Games. She did so well, until she was killed by the Careers in the final five. This has been devastating for the whole family, and now, they've got to face that pain all over again.

The train is so smooth-running, you'd barely notice it's going 250 miles an hour. It would be my dream if it wasn't for the inevitable death waiting for me. My mentor, Tracy, is nice enough. Many victors turn to drinking or drugs to help them forget about the Games, but not Tracy. She's so laid back about everything, I wouldn't be surprised if she killed and didn't even blink.

I toss and turn in bed, before realising my efforts are futile. Sleeping is impossible. Especially during the nights leading up to the Games. That's when the insomnia kicks in.

Despite this, I eventually drop off. When I wake, the first lights of the Capitol are startling at first. I've never seen civilisation this big. The buildings reach the skyline, the people are dressed in sickly clothes. As we pull into the station, reporters and cameras are there, jumping up and down, trying to get a glimpse of us, the tributes from 10.

Soon it will all be over. Soon the carnage will start, and I'll likely be first death.


	2. Get a Glimpse

THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Pre-Games:

 **I've begun the brand new story and sequel to my last story, The 54th Hunger Games! If you've not already read that story, I highly suggest you do, since it will give you a good idea of the characters who were featured last story and you can relate to them more. I had a couple of requests for this story, so here it is! This one is hopefully going to be better than last one, but then again thinking of original names and backstories is harder to do when you thought of 24 ones last time and can't copy off other stories.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Terry Marney, District 8:

I step into the exclusive District 8 living quarters. There's been so much chat about this from my escort that I really thought it would be amazing. I was wrong. It's spectacular.

Being a resident of the poorest part of District 8 for all these years, I've never even laid eyes upon such luxury. How spoiled the Capitol people are, this being the norm. Poverty is non-existent in this dictatorial place.

The bed is a silky-soft with sky blue pillows which are like putting your head on a fluffy cloud. The TV is in HD, two letters completely foreign to me. It's like seeing through a looking glass. Everything so clear and perfect. The showers have an array of buttons that control temperature, scent, shampoo type, everything you can imagine. The gigantic menu using voice control, so you simply speak into the microphone and fresh, hot food is delivered within a minute.

I sit there, still not quite over the fact that this is all mine for the next few days. At least I have luxury before my murder.

Roberta Kirt, District 8:

Terry seems pretty overwhelmed by this. Yeah sure, I'm excited and shocked by this sudden luxurious life change, but all I can think about is that this is the last room I will ever sleep in. The Games are just around the corner and the carnage will begin. I'll be caught up in the bloodbath, fighting to keep my life. The ruthless Careers will most likely eliminate me when I least expect it.

I sit down on my bed and turn on the TV, where Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith are doing a recap of last year. They talk about the arena and show some bird's-eye view over it. I remember watching it. All the tributes split into the different areas, and the Careers all split up to kill the remaining tributes in the different sections, only for them to return to camp and start fighting. Then they show coverage of the bloodbath, where eight died. Then the fight between Michael from 6 and Johansen from 2. Michael won and was crowned victor. Then there is an interview with head Gamemaker, Orlando Trence, where Caesar asks various questions about the tributes of this year, and how well they will do in the Games. The recap of the reapings comes next, and there's me there, being reaped and walking up onto the stage. I turn off the TV before I get too intimidated by the other tributes.

Tonight are the chariot rides. Last year, the District 8 tributes were dressed as mosaics. Hopefully we get better costumes this time around.

Ron Harris, District 12:

Of course, I'm in the stereotypical coal-miners outfit. The audience won't be too impressed. The point of the chariot rides is for the sponsors to get a glimpse at the tributes, hoping to see ones which might be scope for sponsorship.

The horses begin to trot forwards, and all I can do is smile, wave and ignore the probable eye-rolls and groans of our suits.

We're last to emerge, as usual. The sound of the cheering crowd surprisingly stays at a consistent volume as we canter past, waving at the crowds, hoping for some sponsors to see the light and begin raising funds to sponsor us.

Eleanor Ellis, District 12:

The tributes at the front are beginning to circle round the podium where President Snow stands. His face has a menacing expression, but it quickly changes to happy and smiley when his speech comes. The horses seem to know when to stop; probably after many years of doing this same routine over and over.

Snow drones on about our "sacrifice" and "bravery" when most of us didn't even choose to be here. So there was no "sacrifice" and very little "bravery".

These Games are going to be good. These Games, I'm going to make my district proud.

These Games, I'm going to win.


	3. Where Dummies Die

THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Pre-Games:

 **Now, I know I only started this story this evening, and I'm already on Training, but I'm just so excited to get to the Games with this! Please don't think I'm desperate for views or anything. I just want to get the Pre-Games done fast. Also, I'm putting a bit more time into these chapters, unlike last story.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Fredrick Jackson, District 6:

My mentor is last year's victor. He's actually a really nice guy, fresh from the Games with all the best advice. He's also not particularly scarred by them either, so he's not too worried about talking about his Games. Therefore, I've tried to scrap every last bit of info about the Games from him, trying to prepare myself for what is to come. Today is training day and I need to get ready.

"Michael, how do I make allies? I don't want to be in there alone, fighting big alliances and likely getting targeted by the Careers," I ask almost childishly.

"The best ally will be your district partner. In this case it's Harriet. She knows what your district is like. She's from home. She'll be your greatest friend in there," he replies humbly. I remember last year, his district partner was killed by a crazed girl from Five.

The elevator going down is painful, mainly because the tributes from 2 are in there with me and Harriet. They're both chatting and laughing, and I think their whispering might be about us, judging by their mocking stares.

I'm happy to jump out the elevator the second it halts. I'm instantly blown away by the training centre. The sheer size alone could have surprised me enough, but the vast amounts of stations, weapons, dummies, targets, everything. Atala, the head of training, begins talking us through the stations. I'm actually bored, anxious to get started. Finally, she shuts up and we can get to it.

Harriet Serrin, District 6:

First destination. Archery. I had a brief lesson on this when some Peacekeepers visited our school a few years ago and gave us a crash course on weapon skills. I was actually really good with a bow. As I load it, I realise the Capitol bows are strung a bit too tight, and my first arrow sails right past the dummy. Though after lots of testing different bows, I finally find one which is suited to me. As I pull back the string, Fredrick begins talking to me about something from home. I nod and make "Uh..huh" noises as the arrow sinks into the bullseye. I load another one as he continues talking. It impales a dummy just to the left, it slamming into its head.

Wow. I'm actually pretty good at this. I wasn't even looking and I killed two dummies. Not bad. Maybe 6 will have two back-to-back victors this year. I load another arrow and Fredrick leaves to throw some spears. I aim for the arm of the dummy. Sure enough, due to the design of the dummies, it falls off. I then load another arrow and fire it into its heart. Then, as quick as a flash, I hit the dummy's head and then neck.

At least I know what I'm doing for my private training session.

Fredrick Jackson, District 6:

I've been throwing spears for about twenty minutes now, and I'm actually not too bad. It's not my weapon of choice, but I hit the bullseye once. Sadly, the boy from 4, Oliver, is amazing. He chucked a particularly long one into the dummy's neck, then a shorter one into its chest. Then a final, huge one into the skull. That's a very dead dummy.

Watching him is enough to put me off this station. I wander over to the sword station, where the girl from 2 is hacking at the dummies, decapitating them and thrusting the blade into the centre of each target. I slowly pick up a short sword and begin.

I first slash the stomach of a dummy, kick it over and then dig the blade into its head. Then I swivel round on my heel and sever the dummy behind me's arm. I then knock off its head and stab it in the gut. The next dummy I amputate both legs and then slice across the throat. Another dead dummy.

If the Games are this easy, just stabbing stuff, then I've got every chance in the world. But the 2 girl is even better. With one slash she can take off three dummy's heads. I can do that, but after many hacks and slashes.

This girl is a real threat.

Nina Charlsee, District 2:

That boy from 6 isn't the worst with a blade. But I'm very clearly more skilled. The remaining dummies are now covered in stab marks and slash cuts. I've proved myself enough with this sword-play, so I move on to the knife-throwing station. Piece of cake.

I throw the first knife into a dummy's chest, then another into another dummy's throat, then another into its skull. I then cross over my arms, throwing two knives at once, hitting two more square in the chest. As you've probably guessed, I'm not the worst with weapons.

Kyle Poit, District 2:

The fighting won't be difficult. At all. My axe embeds in the target of the human silhouette. This is the only station without dummies. Sadly. I've also tried throwing shurikens, which I'm pretty good with as well. I yank the axe out and survey the room around me.

The two from 3 are trying desperately to light a fire, with limited success. My fellow Careers are fighting it out with the dummies. Of course, the dummies standing there are made of plastic, but still. The two from 5 and 6 are at the edible-plants station. They're actually not too bad at it. I chuck my axe over my shoulder, and it lands into the head of the target. I walk over to where Ella is. She's firing another arrow into a dummy, which immediately falls over from the arrow sticking out of its neck.

"What do you think of this year's tributes? Will they be easy kills?" I say quietly to her, not wanting anybody to overhear us.

"Yep. Most can't even hold a sword, let alone fight with it," she says back with a hint of arrogance in her voice. I then pick up a bow, load an arrow and shoot. It lands in the dummy's shoulder. After a few more shots, I hit the target in the chest.

"Need a bit of work," she says, tapping me on the shoulder, clearly mocking me. Not the best ally in the world.

But hey, if I do get to the end, she'll be the first of the Careers my axe impales.


	4. That was Awesome

THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Pre-Games:

 **OK! So, onto the next chapter. This time, we'll have District 7 and District 1 with the POVs. I'm trying to make this author's note as brief as possible, as to not take up too much time.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Ella Turana, District 1:

I've been in this room for what seems like forever. When will the Gamemakers come out and tell they're ready for me? I've been in hear, shivering like crazy (not from nerves, but from excitement), anticipating the moment where my name is call... and there it is now.

I enter the room. The training room is where I've been for the last few days, me shooting dummies and trying my best with swords and spears. The Gamemakers sit in their elevated section of the room, sipping from decorated wine glasses and chatting about something, probably the Panem versus Germany football match. It would be rude of me to start without announcing myself.

"Ella Turana, District 1," I announce, before practically skipping over to the archery station. Now, for my little show.

I send arrow into the vital areas of every single dummy; head, neck, chest and abdomen. Then, bow in hand and quiver on my back, I sprint over to the artificial climbing tree, and dart up it with ease. I then shoot every single human silhouette and dummy in the room, each time getting a bullseye.

I've not done too bad here. That's at least a nine. Or higher. I shimmy down the tree and place back the bow and quiver. I give the Gamemakers a quick bow before exiting the room.

I practically skip back into the room, with a big, fat smile on my face. A rare phenomenon, me happy enough to smile. But I immediately shift my face into a frown as the other tributes enter my field of vision. Jacob, of course, catches the glint of satisfaction in my eyes.

"So it went well, then," he says. He's not questioning it, just stating the fact. I don't need to reply, I just walk past, and set the elevator number to 1. Tomorrow, we hear the scores.

Jacob Wallace, District 1:

Finally, my name is called. I push myself up off my seat and walk firmly out of the room. Let's try and be intimidating here.

The automatic door opens and I find myself back in the large, echo-filled room. I'm immediately hit by the sudden silence, being able to hear myself breathing. The Gamemakers seem to be smiling, as if they've just seen a very good show. So Ella did do well.

I don't feel the need to introduce myself. They've already fixed their eyes intently on me, waiting to see what I'll show them in the next few minutes.

They'll enjoy it, obviously.

I grab the nearest sword and begin.

The first dummy's arm gets severed. I kick over the dummy and with one blow, decapitate it. I notice the targets on the chests of the dummies. I stab one straight in the centre and then slice its chest.

I realise this "show" is underwhelming. I'm just hacking at dummies. Time to show off some more skills.

I throw the sword at a dummy's neck, decapitating it. I leave it there and then sprint over to the knife station. The dummies are just waiting there. Why is it that all the stations have these annoying dummies? Can't they have holograms like the Quarter Quells? But, despite this disappointment, I get all the targets bang in the middle.

Next station. I pick up the axe and chuck it as far as I can. It hits a human silhouette in the head. Next station, spears. All the targets impaled.

Archery. Every single dummy dead.

After all of this, I think I've shown enough. I bow to the Gamemakers and then leave.

I don't do an Ella. I keep an emotionless face as I enter the elevator and walk back into my living quarters. Now, we wait.

July Werin, District 7:

The tributes leave one by one, depleting the room each time one exits. Nobody returns, so I take it we go back to our rooms once we're done. I also take note that the girls from each district go first, so I'll be after this girl from 6. I think her name is Harriet, and she seems nice enough. As she walks through the dining room and into the elevator, I don't bother waiting for my name to be called. I'm halfway across the dining room, headed towards the door when my name is called.

The door opens to a silent room. The Gamemakers seem to be pretty bored, some with their eyes glazing over as I walk in. I notice that some are still sitting up straight, anticipating what I will do for them.

My most useful skill in these Games is martial arts. I've been training in them ever since I turned eleven, in case I got reaped. So far, I know:

Karate  
Aikido  
Taekwondo  
Ninjustsu

I'm black belt in karate and Taekwondo, and yellow belts in Ninjustu and Akido. I introduce myself shyly before heading over to the hand-to-hand combat station.

There's a few assistants on hand there; the only station during private sessions with them. I tell them to circle me, and come at me one by one.

The first attacker comes in with a roundhouse kick. I block it, knuckle him in the stomach and sweep his legs from under him. The second attacks with a straight punch to the face, which I step out the way of, take his wrist and flip him over sideways. Another tries to headlock me from behind, in which I take his attacking arm, hit it out the way and then do a perfect back handspring into him. He stumbles backwards, and I think I gave him a concussion.

The last two are now there, in combat stance, ready to attack me. One tries to throw me over my shoulder. Though I get flipped over, I land on both my feet. I elbow him in the chest and then back kick him in the temple just to finish him off.

The last one is a real challenge. He attacks with a flurry of punches, kicks, strikes and blows, all I which never get past my lightning-fast reflexes. Though one particularly fast strike sends me tumbling over. I quickly do a kip-up and land on my feet. Time for the finale.

I sprint at the man, him still in a defensive stance. I run up, then jump, place my foot on his chest, and then kick back my leg.

My kicks the man in the chin, knocking him out. I then follow through with my leg, flipping over and landed perfectly on my feet. They won't be getting up again for a good few hours.

I look over at the Gamemakers. They're stunned. Some even dropped their wine glasses and the purple liquid stains the red carpet.

I take it I impressed them.

Alfred Granth, District 7:

My turn. OK, lets do this.

I walk in to find a few unconscious men on the floor. Somebody must have been to the hand-to-hand combat station then. Whoever it was must be really good.

I don't really know what to do, so I wander over to the spear station. I'm okay with these. I throw the first as hard as I can, though it sails right past the dummy and then embeds in the wall. Once again, I throw, and it hits the very outside of the target. At least it was the target.

I throw several more times. Most miss, though one or two hit the edges of the target.

I'm doomed.


	5. The Good Impression

THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Pre-Games:

 **Finally! Away from the bits where so many poor dummies died. But now we have the scoring. I'm going to put this in the same chapter as the interviews, therefore not wasting a chapter on such a short aspect of the Games. This is going to be a very long chapter. Also, slightly taking the idea from leenylu, a great author who wrote "The 57th Hunger Games", I'm going to put in a Capitol girl's point of view for this chapter on the interviews.  
**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Lila Harrensworth, District 4:

Finally, we have scoring! I did pretty well in my private session, showing off my knife skills. But now we have to wait for Caesar's introduction to finish before he gets onto the scores.

We're sat on a brown, comfortable sofa with our escort separating myself and Jordan. My stylist stands behind the sofa; he's so tall, he'd just get in the way. I watch intently as the first scores flash up onto the screen.

Jacob Wallace, District 1: 10  
Ella Turana, District 1: 9  
Kyle Poit, District 2: 10Nina Charlsee, District 2: 8  
Quella Jurlar, District 3: 6  
Thomas Wright, District 3: 7

Finally, my district. I'm literally bouncing up and down in my seat. Jordan's score flashes up first.

Jordan Gagashi, District 4: 11

WHOA! That's a pretty good score. I can't possibly get that. I brace myself and my escort clutches my hand as my score flashes up on screen.

Lila Harrensworth, District 4: 9

OK. Not as good as I first hoped. But I guess it's true. I messed up slightly in the performance.

Jasmine Lees, District 5: 7  
Patrick Williams, District 5: 8  
Fredrick Jackson, District 6: 7  
Harriet Serrin, District 6: 10

A ten! For that district. They're getting stronger. Last year, a 6 tribute was the victor. That's scary.

July Werin, District 7: There's a pause. 12.

WHAT? 7... 12... I start hyperventilating. Higher score... barking puppies... fluffy kittens... I pass out on the sofa.

I come to in my living quarters. My escort is there, alongside my stylist, who is calming me. The flurry of thoughts is still whirling through my head. Though those barking puppies and fluffy kittens that start bouncing about on the floor help to calm me down. Maybe they're just hallucinations. I don't know.

Wendy Hertlen, District 9:

I've just found out the worst. That girl from 7 got a 12. Something I know is head and shoulders above everybody else. She's surely going to be victor. I watch intently as the next scores flash up.

Alfred Granth, District 7: 3  
Terry Marney, District 8: 9  
Roberta Kirt, District 8: 5

My time. Let's see if I sealed my doom trying to shoot down those dummies with a bow.

Wendy Hertlen, District 9: 6

Dammit! I just died. I'm dead. I'm going to die.

William Harold, District 9:

I look over at Wendy. She's got a forlorn expression on her face. I have to turn back to the TV so I can see my score.

William Harold, District 9: 3

Oh no. Wendy should feel good about her score. Myself, I really am dead.

Ed Lawrence, District 10: 8  
Bea Intuler, District 10: 7  
Penelope Troit, District 11: 10  
Howard Kiln, District 11: 5  
Ron Harris, District 12: 6  
Eleanor Ellis, District 12: 4

With that, Caesar closes off and it's time to prepare for the interviews.

Jordan Gagashi, District 4:

I enter Lila's living quarters to find her there, sipping water. She's probably calmed down now. She's always been sensitive to these things. Back in the academy, she threw up when she found that she was going into the Games. She calmed down after an hour or so, but she was shaking for a good few days until the reaping, when she suddenly had a burst of strength and volunteered happily.

"Interviews tomorrow. You ready?" I ask in a cringy- sweet tone.

"Yeah. I'll try not to do what I did just then when Caesar questions that girl about how she got that score," she replies meekly. I decide to leave the room at that point, since she's still acting a little bit weird.

Howard Kiln, District 11:

I wake with a start. My escort is shouting the whole "Get up, get up! Today's going to be a great day!" stuff. I reluctantly clamber out of bed and stumble over to the wardrobe. I slowly put on some jeans and a red t-shirt and shoes and exit the room. Penelope stands in a green shirt and trousers. She's never been particularly fond of dresses or girly clothes, nor does she suit them, so I'm not at all surprised at her choice of outfit.

For once, we're alone in the elevator. Usually, it's crowded with fellow tributes, which is very awkward. It's probably because our escort gets us up extra early every morning. He used to work in the Panem Special Forces, so the mindset of being in the army is still drummed into him. We exit the elevator to find our stylists. Mine is a young, pale skinned man with green hair and grey eyes. He doesn't talk much, mainly mumbles with the occasional clear word spilling out. This makes this very confusing for us.

The interviews stage is huge. On TV, it seems to be the same size as the one in our school, which is a diddy one used for school plays. I love acting. The interviews involve some sort of act, making it as close as it can be to good before the Games. My stylist has me in an ocean-blue suit with a black tie and shoes. The grey trousers have vague, light stripes on them. The jacket is a lighter blue and is very restricting for my arms. Aside from this, I like the outfit. It makes me look as if I'm one of those no-nonsense people. Which I am, in a sort of way.

Penelope Troit, District 11:

My outfit is awful. It's exactly what I don't like. High heels, long, flowing dress with sequins dotting the tight area, tiara. Ugh. I hate all girls clothes. Though my parents had to give me the most disgusting, girly name possible. My efforts to be a tomboy are futile.

"Do you like it?" My stylist asks.

"I love it," I lie. I've always been a very good liar. My face hasn't dropped at the sight of the outfit, which most people's do. I keep a straight, smiley face as I sit down on my seat at the side of the stage.

Tina Openda, Capitol:

Interviews! The second best bit before the Games themselves. I managed to snag the widescreen TV in our house before my parents did. I claimed it by fashioning a sort of den out of cushions and placing my popcorn and multi-pack of Pepsi cans inside it. My friends arrived about an hour ago. I gave them each a popcorn bag and a Pepsi can, and we turn on the TV.

"Welcome! Welcome everybody!" Caesar addresses the audience in the opening ceremony of the interviews. His hair is a lime-green this year, which is unique to the last few years, where he wore a different shade of pink each time. I squeal as he welcomes the first tribute to the stage, Ella Turana from One.

She struts on stage sporting a white dress and high heels. She slumps down into the chair and Caesar begins. His efforts at bringing out the nice side in her are futile. She's arrogant and she knows it. That's a weakness.

After that girl is Jacob Wallace. He's a lot less arrogant, and instead walks to the front of the stage and begins to address the audience until Caesar practically drags him into the seat. The interview begins and he's quite a quirky guy, though I expect as soon as that gong goes off he'll turn brutal just like the other Careers. He's clearly taken a funny angle, and I'm in tears of laughter by the end of his interview.

Next is Nina from 2. She's almost as bad as Ella, though her smiles are made of genuine happiness, not smirks like Ella. She wears a red dress and slip on shoes. She exits with a big, broad smile. Maybe she's not as bad as I first thought. My friends have looks of excitement as the next tribute comes on. Kyle Poit from 2.

Kyle is amazing. He's cute, funny and nice. Though he'll be a real killer in the arena, according to his muscles. He cracks several jokes to the audience, and Caesar even joins in as well. When the buzzer goes off, I'm almost disappointed. No more Careers for two more tributes.

Quella from 3 is a sweet girl. She young, but she has fiery qualities, and when the Careers are mentioned, her face turns from sweet to angry. She explains how they bullied her in the arena and just wants to put a knife in each of their throats. Caesar is clearly taken aback by this sudden personality change. The buzzer goes off. She'll be a formidable foe in the arena.

Thomas Wright from 3 is a nice guy, though his face is not the most handsome. Like, at all. My parents are sponsors. Maybe I can get them not to sponsor this guy, and only the hot ones. Thomas gives a good impression, even making the odd joke. I like him as a person, just I don't really want him to live.

OK, back to the Careers. There's Lila Harrensworth from 4. She's clearly slightly shaken up by something, judging by her stare into nothingness and the occasional shiver. When Caesar asks about it, she explains shakily about her condition, and when that 7 girl scored a twelve it kicked her into motion. I feel sorry for her. I know someone with that same condition. She always has to be comforted, and is always shaking when she hears something that even mildly surprises her. She has no chance in the Games.

Jordan is a cool guy. He doesn't try and address the audience, only speaks in a low, almost attractive, tone. That's a pretty good angle to take. Sponsors galore.

On and on they go, until we get to July from 7. She's a shy girl, which is a surprise since she scored a 12. Caesar asks her how she managed to score so high, and her reply is meek, as if she's unsure about revealing it.

"Martial arts," she replies. WHOA! Never have I ever seen a tribute use martial arts as their main weapon. Last year, we did see a brief martial arts fight with the last two in the arena, but nothing too spectacular. Maybe it'll be like the movies, where they have a group of people circling the protagonist and they beat up all of them. That would be entertaining.

That last interview was the last one remotely entertaining. The rest just took boring, flirty angles. We turn off the TV.

"So guys, who's sleeping in my room tonight?" I ask. Gigi and Marney both raise their hands. I guess Annie has to sleep in the same room as my sister. Tomorrow we're watching the Games. I can't wait!


	6. The Cornucopia Bloodbath

THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Games:

 **The bloodbath is here! The first tributes will die today, many of them ones you likely got close to over the last few chapters. Maybe your favourite will die, maybe they'll live to fight again!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Jasmine Lees, District 5:

As the pod seals around me, my stylist gives me a firm nod. This is it. The 55th Hunger Games are about to begin. With many of us dying today. Dying in the bloodbath.

I know it won't be me. I'm going to run as soon as the gong goes, away into whatever arena has been built for this year.

The pod rises and I feel the warmth on my scalp. The worries and fears I've been feeling condense into one, big phobia of this pod reaching the top. As I break out into the sunlight, the arena comes into focus.

The first thing that strikes me is the rubble around my pod. I'll have to scramble over that to reach the Cornucopia, which sits in what seems like a ruined town square, with rotting buildings around it. The arena seems to be a city, though in the distance is a large forest. That's where I'll be heading as the gong goes off.

Eleanor Ellis, District 12:

This is going to be difficult. I'll have to scramble over the rubble quickly if I want to arrive at the mouth before the Careers. The sole reason I want to get to the horn is because of the weapons I've already noticed in the mouth. Swords, maces, axes, awls, knives, daggers, spears, bows, anything imaginable. They'll be easily reachable without too much of a fight, and that means I'll be armed without too much danger. Surrounding the horn is a variety of different coloured backpacks. Getting that camouflaged one will be ideal. The tent pack near it. The pile of sleeping bags just a few metres from it. I'll be fine in terms of supplies.

Ella Turana, District 1:

The digital numbers on the horn have reached 10.

9...8...7...

I notice the bow lying on a crate.

6...5...4...

I'll get it and start shooting people.

3...2...1...

The gong goes.

I'm tripped over by the pile of rubble at my feet. Damn. The other tributes are already over it and running to the horn. I scramble to my feet and sprint towards the bow. A boy slams into me as I reach it. It's Terry from 8. I draw an arrow from the quiver and stick it into his gut. He coughs and slips over. I just made the first kill of the Games! I'm proud now.

July Werin, District 7:

I'm at the backpacks now, watching as the other tributes begin fighting. There's the two from 3 attacking the girl from 9, who is desperately trying to escape with a pack and dagger. The Careers are hacking at the others. I pick up a knife and am about to run when something stops me.

Ron from 12 is wielding a sword. He's got a menacing look on his face and I know that the intention to kill me is very real. Did he forget that I got a 12 in training? If he did, let's remind him, shall we?

He thrusts forward with the blade. I step out the way and land a high-kick on his temple. He falls without any noise. Finally, I'm allowed to leave.

Lila Harrensworth, District 4:

I cross over my arms and my knives fly into the chests of both tributes from 3. They sink to their knees and I retrieve the knives from their bodies. Then Eleanor from 12 approaches me with a sword. Clearly she didn't notice I've got ranged weapons.

My first knife sinks into her sword-arm. She drops the weapon. My next knife hits her throat. She then falls. So far, four deaths. Let's have some more, shall we?

I yank both knives out and survey the field.

About a quarter of the tributes have already left, though the majority are still here, fighting it out for the stuff. There are plenty of weapons; I don't think they'll be fighting for those, but the survival items are fairly limited, so that'll cause some deaths. I have to quickly knife Alfred from 7 in the leg as he runs past, causing him to fall forwards. I kindly let Kyle kill him, digging his axe into his chest.

Kyle Poit, District 2:

The axes are so plentiful in the mouth, I could have got a decent supply of throwing-axes just from picking out individual ones. But the Gamemakers kindly put a bag of throwing axes in there. I'm good with them now.

My next target is Patrick from 5. He's selecting from a wide range of spears and swords when I attack him. Though he quickly ducks as my axe flies over his head. He gets up to find me there, slashing at him in front of him. He blocks my attacks with a sword, and then tries to stab me, in which I kick the weapon from his hand and slam the axe into his chest. The other Careers should be happily attacking the stragglers, fighting until no tributes remain at the horn, either fled or dead. But they're not. Almost all the tributes are gone.

My final axe lands in the final tribute who was hiding behind the tail of the Cornucopia. I yank it out and look around. As I walk back to the front, the cannons fire.

Fredrick Jackson, District 6:

I fled as soon as the gong sounded. I wasn't able to get far since an attack from William from 9 with a sword left me with a leg wound. He slowed me down enough to make me hide in a building. I count the shots.

1...2...3...4...5...6...7. That's it. 7. Last year, eight tributes were killed in the bloodbath. I look down at my wounded leg. It feels like death, and looks like death. I hope sponsors come with medicine, otherwise my death is going to come quickly.

Jasmine Lees, District 5:

I break through the trees. The cannons tell me the bloodbath is over. I'm surprised at how little deaths there were. The large quantity of weapons I thought would be the cause of at least half the tribute's deaths. I stop to rest high in a tree. With the initial fighting over, I can finally stop running and rest.

I know it may have been a good idea to run in. But my mentor told me to flee, so I did. I'm not a fighter. Even if I got a weapon and someone faced off with me, most likely I would be killed. And we'd have eight deaths instead of seven.

I continue panting for a good few minutes. I'm deep into the woods now, and not many tributes have run this far in. Tomorrow I'll continue running further in.

Harriet Serrin, District 6:

The anthem plays and the first faces appear in the sky.

Both from 3, Patrick from 5, Alfred from 7, Terry from 8, Bea from 10 and Eleanor from 12. The seal disappears and the arena goes silent. My district partner survived. That's a relief. If I can only find him, then I'll ally with him. I got a red backpack from the Cornucopia and a dagger, and then fled.

Ron Harris, District 12:

I wake with an intense pain in the side of my head. The world isn't quite focused yet, but when it is, I notice how all the Careers are standing over me. That girl who got a 12 must have knocked me out during the bloodbath.

I reach over to grab the sword I picked up and try and slash it at the nearest girl's leg. She squeals and jumps back. I get up and find myself face-to-face with the strongest fighters in the arena. I take a stab at Jacob, but his sword parries mine. The knife enters my back before I can get out the way. Then Jacob runs me through with his blade.

So that's what happens if you face all the Careers at once.

Penelope Troit, District 11:

I'm just getting to sleep when the cannon fires. That makes eight dead in the last fourteen hours or so. That's quite a few. But I roll over in the building I'm hiding in and go to sleep.


	7. Day 2: Alliances and Betrayals

THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Games:

 **God. I never thought I would get this amount of views and reviews already! We've only just started the Games! I want to make the chapters a bit longer this time; give you more when I post. So, this is the second day. Is it bad I write while listening to psychedelic trance music?  
**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Harriet Serin, District 6:

I practically fall out my tree when I wake up. I wriggle about so much in my sleep that I'm surprised I've not already tumbled out. I groggily begin the descent downwards onto the forest floor. I sprinted a good way into the trees when I got the bow and packs. Though I could easily hunt and get food, I wouldn't know how to cook it or gut it. So yeah, I need the provided food in the packs to keep me going.

I begin to slowly trek through the dense forest. The beams of sunlight shining through the trees give the ground large patches of light. It's actually quite pretty. I stop for a second to take it in, but the sunlight blinds me and I have to keep moving. The Careers will most likely be around the Cornucopia, therefore I need to distance myself from them as much as I can during the days after the bloodbath, which is when the other tributes are calming down from the initial intensity of the first day.

My district partner and I decided to become allies the night before the Games. I can't go back to the city to find him, since that is dangerously close to the Career pack. And they are bloodthirsty. Every stray tribute they catch sight of they will kill. Without hesitation.

As I advance deeper through the trees, a noise causes me to instinctively load an arrow into my bow. I pull back the string, in search of the potential opponent who will no doubt try and kill me.

Sure enough, the tribute bursts out from the undergrowth. The knife flies into my abdomen before I can release the arrow. I fall to my knees.

The cold, hard truth hits me like a bitch slap. I'm going to die. Dammit! I only made it to Day 2 as well! I'm about to yank out the knife when I realise. The blade hasn't penetrated any vital organs. Only the tip has stuck in, only about an eighth of a millimetre in. I'm not dying today!

Though what I am doing is backhanding the attacker and am about to stick her with an arrow when she stops me and raises her hands in a surrender.

"I want you as an ally! Please! I only threw the knife since I thought you were a Career. I didn't realise it was you until after the knife went in!" she pleads.

Ugh. The only ally I want is Fredrick. I yank out the knife and drop it onto the ground.

"Fine. But only temporarily," I say firmly. Then I return the arrow to my quiver and then we begin to trek further into the woods.

July Werin, District 7:

I feel awful. Was it me who killed that boy? Did my kick damage his skull and therefore his brain? I can't afford to mourn over my victims though; it'll only make me feel worse when it comes to fighting later.

I hoist my pack onto my back and tuck my knife firmly into my belt. I begin my descent down the building and towards the forest. I didn't make it too far away from the Cornucopia yesterday, so I had to make do with the roof of a crumbling building. I climbed it by shimmying up the drainage pipe on the wall, nearly pulling it off, but reaching the flat top within no more than five minutes.

The city stretches a good way into the arena, though the woods are very visible, indicating that I'm close. This gives me a burst of energy, if the will of not being anywhere near the Career pack wasn't enough.

I need an alliance. After losing my district partner, I know I can't keep going alone. Yes, I can defend myself both armed and unarmed, my food and water supply is beginning to run low. The pack barely held anything; only a bread roll, a full flask of water and some water purifier. It's barely enough for one day, let alone a few weeks.

I reach the edge of the forest when something stops me. I draw my knife and hold it out in front of me, hoping it will scare of any attackers. Nobody attacks me, just a short boy peers out from a bush. He looks about fifteen. I immediately stow away my knife and walk over to where he hides.

"Hello!" I say with a put-on cheerful tone. I can't be properly cheerful, but hey, fake it to make it, right?

"Um, hi," he says. He cautiously exits the bush and ruffles the leaves out of his hair. He's actually fairly tall, with blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He's armed with a sword, and he clearly has used it, judging by the stained blood on the blade.

"Wanna be allies?" I say. He shakes his head and draws his sword.

OK. Hostile. I quickly shift into combat stance but keep my knife in my belt; it would only get in the way.

He lunges first. I lean backwards as the blade tears through the air. As he retracts the weapon I back-handspring onto my feet. I attempt an elbow-strike, but his sword is in a defensive position which would only result in my arm being chopped off, so I pull back and draw my knife. I take a sweep at his head, which he blocks and retaliates with a kick to my head. I put my left arm up and it blocks the attack.

We go on like this for a few more seconds. He attacks, I attack, he attacks, I attack. I shoulder-roll under his repeated slices and he cries out as my fist connects with his temple. He stumbles back and I advance on him. I kick his wrist as hard as I can and the sword flies from his grasp.

I stow away my knife again. Now I have the upper hand. I send a roundhouse kick into his shoulder and then an elbow in the windpipe. He gasps for breath. I pull out my knife and plunge it into his thigh. I then turn away from him, grab his arm and throw him over my shoulder. I yank out the knife in his leg.

I think his end is coming. He's now wheezing for breath on the ground and is going blue. I can only watch as he slowly asphyxiates on the ground. I can't bring myself to end it quickly. I just can't. My conscience takes over and I turn away as the cannon fires. My first kill.

And I somehow don't feel bad.

Wendy Hertlen, District 9:

Me and Harriet are actually not too bad together. It's early afternoon and we've caught two rabbits, cooked them over an almost smokeless fire, and stowed them away in our packs. She originally was very reluctant for us to be allies, after I kinda threw a knife into her stomach. But she's been warming up to the idea, and she now has a smile on her face.

I'll have to kill her at some point. The cannon earlier signifies that we only have fifteen left. But we'll be allies until one of us dies, or we eventually turn on each other.

I'm sorting the packs when she taps me vigorously on the shoulder. She has a fearful look on her face and I immediately know that something's wrong. She gestures with her head to behind us. A shuffling noise is continually raising in volume. I draw my dagger and prepare to fight. Harriet has her bow strung and is ready to shoot at the first living being that enters our field of view.

It turns out the approaching threat is July from 7. She has a knife tucked into her belt but it's not drawn. She stops as soon as she sees us there, armed and ready for her. Oh no. She's the one who got a twelve in training. She could likely take us both out with martial arts, according to her interview. If we kill her now, she won't be a threat anymore.

Harriet shoots first. July effortlessly rolls under it and begins to advance on us. She's not got her knife in her hand, but her arms are in combat position.

"I don't want to fight you guys. But if you so insist on killing me, even though I want to ally, fine." She sprints at us, avoiding the arrows and my dagger which I throw at her. She jumps up, spins around and kicks Harriet in the head. She falls down unconscious. No cannon. Good.

I face her. She has a look of sadness in her eyes. She doesn't want to fight us. She literally came out and said it. I stop her before she lands a killing blow to my neck.

"You said you want to be allies," I say shakily. She nods.

"Well, why don't we?" I say. She stops her attack.

"Come on, let's help your friend here," she says, turning round to the senseless Harriet on the floor.

Soon enough, we have Harriet lying beside the smokeless fire, cooking wild bird and talking.

"I'm impressed. You could have killed both of us unarmed, while Harriet had a ranged weapon and I a long dagger," I say to her. She looks distant, as if she's guilty about something.

"What's wrong?" I ask worriedly.

"It's just, I killed your district partner earlier today. He attacked me with a sword and I hit him in the windpipe, cutting off his breathing and killing him," she says. Instantly she looks up at me, seeing if I'm going to suddenly throttle her through the back for killing my district partner.

I know how impulsive William was. He wanted to fight everybody. That means he was surely going to die at some point.

"That's okay. William seemed to have something take over the night before the Games. He said that he wanted to kill everybody he see's. So he was surely going to attack the wrong person and get killed at some point," I say reassuringly. She gasps. I swivel round to find Harriet sitting up. She's groggy and clearly is having trouble focusing on anything. Thank God. July's kick hadn't killed her.

"What... Why is she here?" she yells, pointing at July. She grabs her bow and fires an arrow, only for it to go flying off somewhere. July has already stood up and is prepared to fight. Harriet fires again. This time, it's pointed straight at July's heart.

July Werin, District 7:

The arrow sails past me as I dodge. It lodges in a tree. I shift into combat stance, prepared to fight her, and potentially kill her.

She gets up and charges at me, trying to strike me in the neck. I effortlessly grab her wrist and flip her over sideways. She lands with a groan. Her head must have hit again, because after a few short seconds, she begins to retch out her previous meal. I take this opportunity to draw my knife. I'm about to drive it through her back when Wendy stops me.

"Don't kill her! Please!" Her pleading is enough to stop me from ending this girl.

But, after she's done puking, Harriet's back up and attacking. This time, she has a knife in her hand. My kukri vs her baby knife. She hacks at me, mainly aiming for my throat. I block all of her strikes before sending mine at her shoulder, which she blocks with her arm. Blood trickles down it, the red liquid dropping onto the forest floor.

I can't bring myself to kill her, purely because Wendy will mourn her. I take a quick glance in her direction. She's nodding at me, as if to say _Do it._

I swivel back around to Harriet, who is calming down. She must have noticed how Wendy is now being friendly with me. But that doesn't stop her taking a slice at my chest, which I parry. I kick her in the stomach, winding her, before punching her in the temple and following through with my elbow, knocking her out a second time. She falls hard, making the ground shake as she lands. The knife falls out her hand and clatters onto the ground.

"Let's leave her," I say, preparing our gear.

"Good plan," replies Wendy.


	8. God, You Cheater!

THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Games:

 **I can't believe we've hit over 100 views by chapter 7! This means so much to me. I started writing the 54th Hunger Games a few weeks ago for fun, and now I've had requests for this one! This makes me so happy, you have no idea! But anyway, enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: There is a part in this chapter which is quite unrealistic. Please don't mistake it for me being dumb; I know it's probably impossible and nobody could do it in real life, but I just wanted to add a bit of tension to the story.**

* * *

Harriet Serin, District 6:

I wake up with the familiar searing pain in my temple. That girl must have done it again. I try and grab my knife, but the pain is too much for my head, so I lie back down and wait until it passes. That's now the third time she's hit me in the head, and the second time she knocked me out.

The world finally focuses after a few hours. I'm so vulnerable, only with Wendy to protect me. I call out to her to try and inform her that I'm awake, but nobody replies. I force myself to sit up and find all our packs and weapons gone. Only my bow remains.

Those betrayers. They just left me here to starve. Maybe they thought I wouldn't wake up. Maybe they thought I would just be found and killed by another tribute. I don't know. But whatever the reason is, I'm killing them.

I slowly stand up, only to have a huge head-rush and collapse again. This time I'm able to break my fall, so I land fairly softly. I try again, this time my head coming up last. It works, and I stand there, wondering how long it's been, how many others have died. What if Fredrick is now dead? I'm really not sure. But I need to find him again.

This time I will.

Fredrick Jackson, District 6:

Michael was kind enough to send me some bandages for my leg wound. I can now walk fine, though running is a struggle. I have no food or water either, and I know I'll need some soon, since I'm beginning to experience the symptoms of dehydration.

I've also managed to climb to roof level of my building. It's a very tall structure, with a view to kill for. I stand up on the roof. It's slightly unnerving; I've never been a big fan of heights. Vertigo is not what I exactly enjoy experiencing. But I can see for miles. The woods are far from where I currently am, so trekking there would take a long time. The Cornucopia is worryingly nearby. I can just about make out the faces of the Careers, trying to track some tributes.

I notice how they only hunt in small groups of about two; probably so they can cover more ground and therefore kill off more tributes. Three groups have parted from the horn, only with a short boy as a guard. I think he's from 11. I crane my neck to see if I can get a better glimpse, when suddenly I'm grabbed from the back.

Jacob Wallace, District 1:

I sneaked up behind this fool a few minutes ago after climbing the drainage pipe on the side of the building. He's been standing there, glimpsing at the Cornucopia for ages now. I eventually decided to just kill him now.

He's actually quite strong. He shoves me away from my headlock and raises his fists. I draw my sword and prepare to hack his face off. He attacks first with a flurry of strikes, which are futile against my blade. I kick his ankles from under him and use my forearm to slam him to the roof of the building. I'm about to stab him when an arrow whistles past me, barely missing my head. I turn to the attacker. It's the boy's district partner. on the ground, shooting at me. Okay, better finish off this guy before taking care of her.

I bring the sword hard onto his chest, digging deep into his flesh. His body contracts as I yank out the blade. No cannon yet. Another arrow skims my throat. I step backwards swiftly before returning to the boy, who is on the brink of death. This is getting tedious. I need to just finish him off. So I kick him onto his back, revealing the tall, deep wound I've entrusted him with. I drive my blade through his stomach. I hold the blade in his body for a few seconds, watching him stare hopelessly at the weapon, holding onto the brief remainder of his life. I finally twist the blade in his abdomen, and the cannon fires immediately.

The girl on the ground is now firing a volley of arrows at my head, chest and neck. I can't avoid all of them, nor can I shoot back since I don't have any ranged weapons. So I retreat into the top floor of the building, providing cover.

I've got assistance at last. My fellow Careers have arrived at the scene, attacking the girl with their array of weapons. I watch through the shattered window as Jordan sends a spear flying into her thigh as she shoots him in the neck. Seeing this, Lila begins shaking. Oh no, her condition is kicking in again.

Jordan Gagashi, District 4:

Lila is screaming now. She'll probably either pass out or start screaming in a few seconds. Though I probably won't have a "few seconds". I'm dead. Stone dead. Or at least about to die. The arrow in my throat has severed the windpipe, and I'm now taking wheezed, useless breaths.

Pulling it out will only kill me faster. I'll choke on my own blood. Not a very good way to go. Yet I'm fighting it. I'm trying to cheat death. I force my legs to stand up, all my muscles complaining at this new dictatorship known as my own bodily control while dying. Lila has collapsed next to me, her intense emotions getting the better of her again.

The girl who shot me is now dead. Ella shot her in the chest before she could finish me off. The cannon fires and I know that mine will fire. Or maybe not. Maybe I'll get through this, cheating death and living to fight again. Sure, I'll be cripplingly injured and may need emergency surgery done after the Games, but that's better than death. Breathing is now so difficult I don't know if my plan will work. I try to talk to the group but only hoarse noises come out.

"Let's get back to base," Jacob says after getting out of the building. My body is screaming at me to give up, and I almost do. The world now alternates from being completely black to flashing with all sorts of strange colours. The choking noises have increased in volume, and when we reach base, I collapse onto the grass, letting the warm, sticky blood flow onto the green vegetation.

Kyle is on me within a second, yanking out the arrow and feeling around my throat for blockages of blood in the system. The pain is intense and the scream I try and give out sounds like a gargled choke. Ella runs to him with a bandage, and the large, gaping hole where the arrow pierced has been bandaged up. Air now flows through my throat, and breathing has never felt so sweet.

But the Careers aren't done yet with my surgery. They bandage up as much of my throat as possible, and even put on four layers. Talking is now almost impossible, and I probably will never speak again.

Saying that, after a few hours, my voice gradually returns. The larynx hadn't been damaged, so I can talk fine now. My throat still is in searing pain, but I can live with that. I'm alive. Not many people can say they got an arrow in the throat and lived to tell the tale. The world still occasionally switches from pitch-black to regular, to flashing colours, to bright-white, but hey, that'll probably pass.

That girl is now dead. I wish _I_ killed her. That would have been good revenge. I've not killed anybody throughout these entire Games, so a death at my hands would be nice.

Night falls by the time I've begun to recover from my near-death-experience. The moon, clearly created by the Gamemakers, gives us an eerie illumination over the horn. Snuggling down in my sleeping bag is difficult with an arrow wound in your throat, but I manage it. I fall asleep beside the dark, bloody grass left from the bloodbath.


	9. Fight at the horn

THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Games:

 **Okay, so since half-term is now over, I won't be posting as much. Therefore, I want to make each chapter as long as possible so you don't leave disappointed with the content. This chapter is based around the alliance of Wendy and July.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Wendy Hertlen, District 9:

Thank God. Harriet is now dead. She won't be hunting us down any more. So, that gives us time to breathe before the next threat comes our way.

July is even better than Harriet. She's skilled in combat and free-running, making avoiding mutts and other tributes really easy. She's saved me many times over already, dodging the pack of Careers and these weird cat mutts. I have trouble keeping up, but I manage it. So far, we've built a small den inside a tall, hollow bush. It has a few peeping-holes and light easily streaks through it, making sleeping a tad difficult. But in terms of concealment, nobody would even consider us being there.

I wake on the fourth day in this hellhole next to July, who is still muttering in her sleep. So far, I picked up "Grapes, flying turtles, magical grains of sand." That's a weird dream she's having. I shake her, and after a few attempts, she comes to.

"Wha, wha?" she murmurs. I pull her up and get our gear ready. The packs are fairly depleted; July only has a couple bread rolls and beef. We slide our weapons into our belts and set off.

"We could do it," July murmurs thoughtfully. I raise my eyebrow.

"Do what?" I ask curiously.

"Raid the Careers. Take their stuff. Make off with more weapons, food, water, medicine, you name it," she replies with a sly smile. I give a meek smile back. Oh God.

July Werin, District 7:

Within a few hours, we're on top of a tall, slim building. I had to haul Wendy up; she's not the fittest of athletes, and we sit there, waiting for a chance to strike.

The Careers break up into packs of two, leaving just a young boy there. I decide to climb down and take him out. Wendy follows, and we draw our weapons. My kukri knife is significantly more deadly than Wendy's dagger, but it could be equally useful if used correctly.

We approach the horn from the side, the boy blissfully unaware of our presence. My knife is raised, ready to take out this opponent standing in the way of us and the bounty.

The boy notices us right as I'm about to bring the death blow. He's armed with a spear and tries to slash me with the tip, but I jump back before the head can slit my neck. I counter with a thrust at his ribs, which he harmlessly parries. Wendy has suddenly disappeared. Why? When I need her the most, she leaves!

The boy's face contorts in pain. I wonder if he'd sprained his ankle or something during the fighting, but then he falls to reveal Wendy, her dagger in his back. The cannon fires and I stand staring at the dead boy, wondering if he had a girlfriend, or a family.

The cannon aroused the Career pack. They crash through the forest, approaching the Cornucopia with alarming speed. Wendy yanks the dagger out of the boy's body, blood flying up with the blade, as we confront the universally hated tributes in bitter combat.

They circle us, holding their weapons high and have big grins on their faces. They remember how I got a twelve in training, surely. They must be glad that they're getting a real fight. And they'll get one. Boy, will they get one.

The first attacker comes at me with a sword. I parry his first attack and pull back, anticipating the next strike. Instead, he crosses blades with mine and circles it round until I lose grip on the knife. It flies out of my grasp. Dammit. That will definitely make the fighting harder, though not impossible.

I grab his sword-arm, bend it backwards to his shoulder, and slam his neck with my first three fingers. He makes a choking sound and stumbles back. I take this opportunity to crawl for my knife, but is quickly thwarted when a boy with a bandage around his neck attempts to skewer me with a spear. I grab the long handle and flick it up, whacking him in the face. Blood begins to run from his nose, and I turn round with the spear and chuck it as far as I can. It lands in a girl's chest. She sinks to her knees. I recognise her as the girl with that condition. Her name is Lila and her eyes are filled with pain as she slumps sideways. The cannon fires and I turn back to the combat.

Wendy Hertlen, District 9:

I once again parry an axe strike to my head. This guy from 2 is really laying it hard on me. After hearing the cannon, I take a precious second to look backwards, seeing if it is July. But instead, a girl lies there with a silver spear protruding out of her chest. Good.

The boy takes a swing at my abdomen, which I jump back from, desperate not to die and leave July to the wrath of the Careers. I try and thrust my blade into his chest, but he simply kicks me over. I fall backwards, winding myself when I hit the ground back-first. I lie there for a few deadly seconds, trying desperately to breathe. When I finally do, it's already too late. The axe is raised high above me, and it crashes down onto my throat.

July Werin, District 7:

The cannon fires. Did Wendy kill someone? I swivel round to find the boy from Two yanking his axe out of her. A sense of grief rushes through me. She was my only friend in the arena, the only one I wanted to ally with. This only makes me fight harder. For Wendy.

The boy I hit in the throat is now recovering, and his strikes are now filled with frenzy. I send a roundhouse kick into the side of his stomach. I then proceed to throw him over my shoulder. He lands in a heap, his sword lying next to him. I quickly pick it up and stand over him. The boy looks up. He doesn't have any emotion in his eyes. He's waiting for the death blow. He's anticipating death.

I dig the blade into the boy's chest. The blood drains from his face and his eyes begin to lose the life in them. Finally, his body goes limp, and the cannon fires.

Four deaths today. The crowd will be loving this, an epic battle between a lone District 7 tribute and the trained Career pack. So far, two of them lost their lives, three if you count the guard. And then Wendy, the girl I knew. My friend.

The boy with the bleeding nose is attacking again. The death of his district partner and his Career friend has heated him up. I have the upper hand with the dead boy's sword, so this shouldn't be too hard. But before I can drive the blade through him, an axe flies through the air. I barely duck in time as it sails over my head. An arrow also follows. The remaining four Careers are now all targeting me. Oh jeez.

I have to roll as another arrow penetrates the air. My kukri lies a few feet away from me. I swiftly slide it into my belt before facing off against the pack. I came here to get supplies, therefore I need to achieve the goal I set and _get supplies,_ not kill two Careers and give another a bleeding nose.

I've finally approached the axe-thrower. He pulls another knife and I point the sword at him, ready to engage him. He just smirks and gestures to the others not to intervene, and attacks.

We block, parry, dodge, strike, jump, duck, roll, slash, stab and hack at each other. We're pretty evenly matched, no attacks getting through each others defenses. I need to leave now. The fighting will just get worse, and I'll probably end up dead.

I turn on my heel and sprint to the nearest pack and sling it over my shoulder. I slide a few more knives and blades into my belt and hightail towards the woods. Only a stray arrow comes anywhere close to me.

Hopefully Wendy died for a good cause.


End file.
